


Anything But Astounding

by orphan_account



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Danisnotonfire - Fandom, Fantastic Four, Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: !!!, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst, Fluff, GASP, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Self-Harm, Smut, Swearing, baha, crabstickz2, danisnotinteresting, fantasticfour, heck yeah, lessamazingphil, pjthekick, sigh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being ordinary is boring when everyone around you is amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is also being written -by me- on Wattpad:  
> http://www.wattpad.com/story/24184570-anything-but-astounding

At seven years of age, you receive a package.

 

_"It's here! It's here!"_

_The bright eyed boy scurried to the doorway, his brown hair flopping over his eyes. He eagerly awaited for the cardboard box of "wonders" as his mother paid the postman. The boy looked up expectantly,_

_"Can I open it now? Please!"_

_She only shook her head,_

_"You're far too young dear. In time, you'll be ready."_

_The young boy pouted and shuffled away._

_Hopefully the time would come soon._

 

At 14 years of age, you attend a ceremony.

 

_"Daniel!" the boy's mother shouted from the floor below, "Hurry up, we're going to be late!"_

_Dan let out a frustrated sigh,_

_"Just a minute mum! I'm straightening my hair!" He yelled back._

_In all truth, Dan was not straightening his hair. That had already been done ages ago. Well, not necessarily ages._

_Actually, what he was really doing, was ridding his hands of the black ink spots that now coated it. That was a nervous habit of his; doodling and conducting poems on his skin. It was a habit he needed to break._

_When he finally made it downstairs, he met a worry stricken parent,_

_"Mum?"_

_She sniffed, and opened her arms to her son, wrapping them around his body protectively,_

_"My little bear is growing up." she whispered, squinching her eyes closed,_

_"I'm not going anywhere soon, mum. I still have time left." he assured her. She just nodded and held on tighter._

_After about a minute or so, Dan gently removed his mother. If they wasted anymore of their minutes at home, they'd be late to a ceremony that would most certainly not want to be missed._

_The family of two climbed in the car and made their way to the field house; a large building on the other side of Manchester._

_When they stopped, Dan exited the car. His mother would not be coming with him, this he knew. She could not attend the ceremony being the way she was. As much as it pained Dan to think, he hoped he would not follow in her footsteps._

_She gestured for her son to come close to the window, which he obeyed._

_The boy stood as his mother fussed with his hair, quickly swatting her hands away,_

_"Mum!" he hissed, giggling slightly,_

_"You just have a little-" she reached up again. Dan grabbed her wrist, giving her warning glance. She smiled weakly at him,_

_"I love you sweety, I'll be back to pick you up when the ceremony ends."_

_"I love you too, mum." he sighed, and entered the field house._

_-_

_Dan desperately wished he had a pen, but since he was refused one, the only thing he could do was stand there as his hands twitched at his sides._

_The nervous energy bubbled up inside him. He felt like screaming, or yelling something irrelevant very loudly. He felt like punching someone._

_Or course, he didn't._

_Everyone had stared at Dan when he entered the building. He couldn't blame them; if it was the other way around, he would have been staring too,_

_"Where are his parents?"_

_"Maybe they're dead."_

_"Or maybe.. they're just ordinary."_

_"Oh."_

_"Poor kid."_

_"Do you think he'll be ordinary?"_

_Dan thought about that last one._ Would _he be ordinary? Oh god, he hoped not, but ordinarism usually runs in the family._

 _He tried to ignore the stares and whispers as he stood in his assigned place. Dan wasn't the only one here who had an ordinary parent, but he was the only here_ without _a parent. Usually only the father, or mother came. No one's ever heard of a child with two ordinary parents. And there has never been one. Just a child with one parent. One ordinary parent._

_Dan hoped his father would show up, but that was highly unlikely. His father left before Dan had been born. Hell, he doesn't even know what the man looks like._

_So there he stood, alone. No one dared to spark any sort of conversation with him. That's just not how things worked._

_He tried shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to cease the twitching, but then he remembered that these pants had no pockets._

_Fucking fancy dress pants._

_Soon enough, the ceremony started. The younger groups stood and watched as those ready of age opened their packages._

_Man, was it a sight to see._

_Different arrays of light and colours erupted into the air as one kid put his amulet on. He lifted his hand, and in an instant the room grew brighter, more vibrant. People were smiling in awe. It was beautiful._

_As Dan watched, a feeling of content flooded through him, reaching to his finger tips and tingling at the end of his nose. He sighed happily,_

_"Luminescence." someone whispered next to him. Dan turned,_

_"Huh?"_

_"That's his Facult. Luminescence."_

_He nodded,_

_"My name's PJ, by the way."_

PJ was a bit gorgeous, _Dan thought. Which was a weird thing to think, but honestly he was. His eyes were literally the colour of summer, if summer had a colour._

_But not just summer._

_Like summer.. in space._

_Basically they were just really, really, really green._

_It was at this point Dan realised PJ was expecting for him to reply with his own name,_

_"Oh, um. Dan."_

_"Lovely." PJ smiled._

_Their conversation ended when the next group went up to the podium._

_Some had dark amulets, and when worn emitted an aura of dismay. In contrast to Luminescence, it made everything gloomy, dark. It felt wrong. With a flick of the wrist, this person could bring someone on top of the world to the depths of the sea._

_"Omniscence." PJ whispered. Dan was grateful that he had been stood next to someone so clever. He had no idea what any of the Facults were._

_Another kid went up, and to Dan's surprise he heard a loud "whoop!" from the person next to him. Dan looked over and raised an eyebrow,_

_"'S my friend, Chris." He said, grinning._

_When Chis opened his box, he pulled out a bright orange amulet and put it on. Laughter from seemingly nowhere suddenly erupted. Dan glanced around, confused. No one was laughing?_

_But obviously, it was the amulet. That was his Facult,_

_"Comisinence," PJ whispered, chuckling slightly, "Of course."_

_Chris did a small fist pump, and threw his hands into the air as he made his way off stage._

_There where more, some strange, some expected. A lot of them were repeated, but there was on Facult that caught Dan's attention._

_A boy with raven hair, obviously having been dyed due to his ginger roots that had begun to show, stepped up to the podium. Even from the distance, Dan could make out an electric blue that sent shivers down his spine._

_Damn._

_When the boy put on his amulet, a thunderous roar shook the building. The boy looked up in surprise after studying the necklace in his hand. There was not only a roar, but a sweet sound flooded the entire building. There was no other way to describe it but compassion. How exactly_ could _you describe the sound of compassion? It was like how you would imagine love to sound. Sweet, soothing, calming. It made you feel happy with yourself._

_The boy up on the stage grinned widely, laughing a little bit to himself._

_I looked over to PJ, expecting him to explain which Facult this was; he was left speechless,_

_"I .. I have no idea. But I love it." was all he said._

_The rest of the older group finished opening their boxes, leaving the younger ones excited and eager for their ceremony, which would be four years from now._

_And as Dan left the field house, on the car ride home, and all through the night, he couldn't stop thinking about the raven haired boy. About his smile. His eyes. His ability._

_Dan knew he wasn't the only one thinking about him, he couldn't be. But still, he couldn't shake the boy's image out of his head._

 

At 18 years of age, you learn your Facult.

 

_It was time. Finally. Time for him to open the box._

_To learn who he was._

_Who he would be._

_Piles and piles of curiosity and anxiousness had been building up for 11 years now._

_And he was finally going to see._

_There Dan stood, up on the podium. Ahead of him were others awaiting to learn their own Facult, and those attending the ceremony to get a glimpse of what they would soon experience._

_His hands rested on the lid, covered in ink and poems and little stories that would never be shared. His handwriting was nearly illegible now, after being smeared countless times from his hands entering the pockets on his - new - dress pants. (Oh yes. They had pockets now)._

_He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking the top off of the box._

_When he opened his eyes, he nearly fainted._

_It was as if a huge weight had been dropped inside his stomach._

_Those piles of curiosity were now just about ready to be ejected through his mouth. It was all for nothing. The time spent wasting hours imagining what he could be. Would be._

_And now he was staring at nothing._

_An empty box._

_He was ordinary._

 

Dan was ordinary.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this story will be written in Dan's point of view instead of third person.  
> c:

|3 Years Later|

 

_No._

_No no no no no no no no._

_No no._

_No._

I continued to scribble furiously onto my skin.

_No no no._

The black ink making it's way up my arms and onto my shoulders.

 _No_.

Just  _no_.

Over and over and over again. No meaning, no reason. Just _no._

I didn't even know why I was doing it, but soon my whole arm was almost covered.

Different sizes, different variations.

All of the word  _no_.

And if in the end, this black venom ends up poisoning me, I won't care.

Because at least it looks pretty on my skin.

I admired my art work, smiling softly to myself. It was like a silk void encasing me, my body littered with the word. It looked nice, it felt nice. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, when-

"Boo." a smooth voice almost as silky as my semi-reality snapped me back into existence.

I took a sharp breath, turning around and lightly hitting the figure behind me,

"Peej!" I nearly screeched. I tried to stare him down with a glare, but failed in my attempts as we both ended up in a fit of giggles.

Manly giggles. Of course,

"You need to stop zoning out like that, it can't be good for your health." he told me with a smirk,

"Oh, _shut up_."

He chuckled, then frowned as his eyes landed on my right arm,

" _Dan!"_ he gasped.

I just rolled my eyes. PJ always nagged me about how I shouldn't draw on my skin. He was afraid that one day I'd go too far.

Yeah.  _Okay._

Says the one who covers himself with paint on a daily basis.

PJ huffed a breath,

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I said, "Just, uh, give me a minute."

"Alright, I'll be outside when you need me." PJ flashed me a quick smile, then left to go wait.

Then, I was alone. Every breath seemed to echo off the walls, bouncing back to where I stand and caving me in.

So I took a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

And one last one, because if I took anymore I was certain I would burst.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop any tears from flowing, but to no avail.

It was where I was, standing in the doorway of my home.

Scratch that.

Ex-home.

I changed my mind. I didn't want to leave. I wasn't ready.

I was scared, I was worried. I was terrified and upset and anxious and maybe a little bit excited all at once.

Because I was finally moving out. I didn't really actually have a choice on whether or not I wanted to move out, but because of the circumstances.. well. I just couldn't stay.

And as I stood in the doorway, tears billowing down my cheeks. I could only think of one thing.

_I don't want to go._

_I don't want to go._

_I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go I don't want to go._

Everything seemed to spin and turn and crash down on me. My head was pounding, my throat burning. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to go.

And soon PJ was here, and he was holding my arms. He was wiping my tears and telling me,

"It's going to be alright, Dan." How was he so calm? 

He told me I needed to stop screaming, I needed to calm down. I needed to let go.

Could I?

But I didn't want to. I didn't want to let go. I wanted to stay here.

I wanted to come home in the winter from work and drink some hot chocolate or tea, maybe watch a movie with my mum.

And another wave of tears rushed out as I thought of all the things I'd never get to do. 

Again.

Ever.

PJ pulled me towards the door, closing it one last time; he wrapped his arms around me. 

The whole way to the tube I was quiet.

It was only when we got on the train, did I speak,

"I don't even know him." it was barely a whisper, but PJ seemed to hear,

"Yeah mate, I know," he said soothingly. It was strange how caring and comfortable it was to be around him, considering his Facult was something to do with creativity, not compassion,

"Chris says he's a nice guy. Says they went to school together. I'm sure you'll be fine." he smiled weakly and rubbed my shoulder.

Too many thoughts were running through my head. I couldn't even think of all of them, and each time that I tried to, I'd just get lost in some sort of never ending labyrinth of questions with no answers.

I glanced up. It didn't surprise me that people were staring. Someone of Omniscence sent a wave of loathing towards me. 

I already felt horrific, no need to increase the mood.

The tube came to a halt, but it wasn't mine and Peej's stop yet. As people began to board the subway, the seats began to fill. All except for one.

The one next to me.

I didn't know how obvious it was that I was ordinary, but it must not of been hard to find out, because a little boy was suggested to sit in the seat next to me. To which he replied,

"Ew mum, no! I'm not sitting next to  _that_." the boy scrunched his face up real nasty like. I just glanced down, ashamed. I usually just let these things happen. There's no point in trying to stop it, but apparently PJ had other ideas,

"He has a name, you know." PJ glared up at the child, receiving an even colder glare from the boy's mother,

"Are you actually standing up for this ... abomination?" she sneered, in disbelief, "especially for someone with your kind of talent. I can't believe.." she shook her head and  _tksed_. I was hoping for Peej to leave it alone, now. But as I expected, he didn't,

"He's just as much of a person as you are!" PJ retaliated. She scoffed,

"I will never understand you people with the creative Facults. Psh, Innovascence? Too much compassion, it seems to me."

PJ opened his mouth to reply, but I gave him a look clearly telling him to "knock it off". He grumbled something incoherent, then sat back down next to me,

"Why didn't you just let me  _handle it_ , Dan?" he hissed,

"I don't want to draw more attention to myself then there already is." I mumbled. PJ just shook his head.

We remained silent for the rest of the trip.

 

* * *

 

Fuck.

Hell.

Shit

_Crapfuckshitfuckhellshitfuckcrapfuck-_

"Dan!" PJ slapped me upside the head.

I yelped,

"What was that for!?" 

"Control your fucking language, pal." he said.

It hadn't occurred to me that I was speaking my thoughts. That seemed to happen a lot.

_The perks of being a flawed human being._

I sighed. Apparently all my belongings had been delivered to the flat already. The one that I was going to share.

With a guy.

That I didn't even know!

It was actually the best offer I could get. Truth is, I can't afford my own place. I'd have to split the rent with someone else, and since PJ couldn't take me in due to the fact that he already had a flatmate..

Well, now I'm living with a stranger.

It was someone Chris had requested though. (He is PJ's flatmate, just to clear somethings up).

Chris said he was good friends with the guy, all the way up to the ceremony. They didn't see each other much after that. Mostly because the guy became super famous or some shit due to his "rare Facult."

And, well, being someone who  _has no Facult_ , I guess you can understand how horrifically frightened I am to be living with this guy.

The reason I had been swearing earlier, in case it interested anyone, was because me and PJ were currently standing at the door of my new flat.

We technically are still standing here.

I'm just too scared to knock on the door.

"Dan. Seriously." PJ urged.

I gulped, brought my knuckles up and rapped three times onto the hard cement.

From inside there was a loud shuffling, footsteps on stairs, and then finally a click. The door swung open, and I nearly fainted as I saw the person inside.

Dark hair. Blue eyes. _Dazzling smile._

It was the guy I had been thinking about non-stop for three years.


	3. Chapter 3

Oh my  _god._

It was him! It was the actual guy!

I can't believe my luck,

"You must be Dan." He smiled. Hell, he was adorable. The guy stepped aside as an invitation for me and PJ to come in. Except, I didn't realise this. I just kind of stood there like an awe-struck idiot until Peej nudged me forward. I felt my face heat up; I must've looked so  _stupid._

 _"_ Heh, y-yeah," I stuttered, messing with my fringe, "That's me. Dan Howell! Or Daniel if you prefer. But most people call me Dan."

My nervous waffling caused me to have some hard-core internal cringing.

It was then that I noticed he didn't have the ginger roots from the last time I saw him. He must dye his hair a lot,

"I'm Phil. You probably already knew that though, right?" he smirked. It was so cute, my god. His little smile only perked up to one side of his face and I just wanted to ruffle his hair and boop his nose and cuddle him a whole bunch-

_No, Dan, stop! You weirdo!_

"I-uh, actually didn't know your name. No body told me," My eyes widened slightly "But I know who you are! You were the guy with all the cool roars and pretty music and stuff.." but the last part of my sentence was a bit rushed, and kind of smooshed together, as I realised what I was waffling again, and not to mention being a little creepy.

Phil gave me a strange look, then looked at PJ as if wanting some sort of explanation for my odd mumbling. PJ only shrugged,

"Right.. well, would you like to have a look around?" he suggested. I nodded, pretty sure my face was near beet red right now.

I made my way up the stairs, listening behind me as PJ introduced himself to Phil.

I already knew my way around the flat, I had been here before. It's just that I've never been here during the same period of time as Phil. We were supposed to meet up last week before moving in, but I was too awkward and afraid of who I'd be living with.

And now those feelings have just been intensified,

"So," I began, "You know Chris?"

He nodded, "Yeah! We used to be really close. Except after the ceremony we kind of grew apart because of my Facult or whatever,"

I nodded. This was information I already knew,

"But since then the hullabaloo has died down. I'm not so very popular anymore." He chuckled,

"So wait, what is yours then?" PJ asked,

"Solicitence," he answered, doing that little half smirk again that just made my stomach flip like crazy, "Which basically just means I'm really nice and other stuff."

PJ smiled,

"Oh, cool! Mine's Innovascence."

Phil looked over to me,

"What about you, Dan?" 

PJ choked a bit, taken aback by Phil's question,

"Chris didn't tell you?" he said,

"Tell me what?"

I looked at PJ with wide eyes, shaking my head frantically,

"Uh, I think that's something that Dan would need to share with you," PJ then quickly added, "when I'm not here, of course."

"Oh." Was all Phil said, but he nodded, understanding.

 

We chatted a bit and explored the flat; I learned that Phil's full name was Phillip Michael Lester, and that's he's kind of allergic to cats. He then showed to me the room he had chosen, and said if I wanted it we could always switch. Which to, of course, I politely replied no. Then PJ left, and me and Phil were on our own.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Things were awkward now, without Peej here sparking some sort of odd conversation,

"So did you bring your stuff with you on the tube or..?" Phil began. I shook my head,

"No. I had already dropped it off here earlier. I just have to unpack."

"Oh.. so that's what all those boxes were?" 

I nodded.

Then silence.

The room was quiet, save our uncomfortable shuffling and the occasional pop or click from some random unknown place. I stole a few glances at Phil, it was hard not to. He was just so much better looking than I remembered,

"I guess I'll go unpack, then." I finally said,

"Right, yeah. Me too."

I began to head toward the small pile of boxes, as I never really owned that much. From behind me, I heard Phil's voice pipe up,

"Dan?" he called,

"Yeah?" I lifted two boxes, about to head towards my designated room,

"About what I asked earlier.." 

I sighed. He was bound to know sooner or later,

"I don't really want to talk about it."

And later seemed like the better option.

I glanced behind my shoulder, seeing as Phil looked a bit sad. I shouldn't have continued talking, mentally punching myself in the gut as I did,

"Look Phil, I'm sorry. It's just not something I'm really proud about. I'd rather to not have a lot of people know."

"We're going to be living together. You're going to have to tell me at some point." he chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing down. I didn't reply to him.

 

I made my way into my room and began unpacking the first box. It was mostly just clothes, a beautiful array of black and dark blue.

"What a rainbow of colours you got there, Dan." I mumbled to myself, 

_Yeah, I should probably go shopping for something new._

_But you don't have a lot of money?_

_I'll get a job first._

_Good idea!_

I chuckled to myself, getting a job was a brilliant idea. I then realised I wasn't the only one laughing here. My eyes glanced over to find Phil standing in the doorway,

"Are you.. _talking_ to yourself?" he giggled.

I felt my neck become warm; the heat then rose up to my cheeks, reaching the tips of my ears. I hadn't realised I'd been talking aloud. Phil, noticing my embarrassment, just laughed even harder.

I leaned face first into my pile of clothes and groaned.

_I'm such a freak, such a freak._

_Such a freak! Such a freak! Learn to control yourself!_

By the time I looked back up, Phil had left.

For a few minutes I let myself wallow in the aftermath of my mortification, until I decided I should finish unpacking.

Everything was going quite smoothly, until I opened a box with all my "special belongings".

All the items were wrapped delicately in newspaper, protecting them from harm. I carefully took one from off the top of the box. It was cylinder shaped, the paper tucked in around the edges. I knew exactly what is was, slowly unwrapping it.

I stared at the item, finding a sudden desire to use it. It was more of an instinct really. A bad habit.

My fingers removed the cap, seeming so plumpy and odd compared to the slimness of the pen. I warily drew a small line on the back of my hand, missing the feeling of ink. It glided smoothly across my skin, leaving intricate marks and designs, patterns only I would understand. The black lines soon then were covering my palm, leaving me no choice except to continue the adventure up the length of my forearm. Here and there I wrote in little quotes, small poems, lyrics, lines, spirals, dots, wondrous tattoos tainting my limb and I kept writing. I kept drawing, quicker and harder and deeper and soon there was more than just black, as red ink began to show. It lightly danced with the tip of my pen, being dragged across and beyond limits unimaginable and maybe it stung a bit but it felt so good, it looked so good; a weak smile formed on my face. I missed this.

I missed this!

It made me happy to finally be writing again. I had been denied a pen in so long! Only bringing one here in secret. And now here I was creating art all over my body and on my thighs as the lyrics continued! The patterns and songs and little poems made from the depth of my mind, all here! All here!

_You will only hear these elegant crimes,_  
 _Fall on your ears from criminal dimes._  
 _They spill unfound from a pretty mouth._

My pen was no longer delicate, it hadn't been for a while. It was rough and unforgiving, finally being fulfilled after it was left starving from not being able to do what it was intended to.

_Write._

I hadn't even noticed the terrified screech that came from my bedroom doorway. I fought against the hands that bombarded me. All my attempts were useless, as my liberator was stolen from my fingers. 

My face was wet and it irritated me so much; soon my hand were up there wiping the drops that just  _wouldn't stop falling._  I scratched and pulled at my face but no matter what I did, it never stopped and soon my hands started to burn as the drops began to fall on my black and red checkered art. 

I guess I must of been screaming for a while, because when I had finally begun to hear my voice, it was rough and hurt a hell of a lot,

_"Make it stop!"_

Soon there were arms around me and a voice whispering into my ear and it was all familiar, all too familiar. I melted into the hug,

"It's going to be alright, Dan. You need to stop screaming. You need to calm down."

His hands were stroking my hair and my back and my tears kept falling,

"What's wrong with me, Peej? Why am I like this." I said between gasps of air. It was hard to breathe at the moment,

The person took a moment to reply, as if thinking about what they should say,

"There's nothing wrong with you."

 

After I had collected myself, at least enough to be considered stable, I looked up and was surprised by who I saw,

"Phil?" I said, barely a whisper,

"Hm?" he replied, softly. 

"Oh- uh, nothing. I .. I just thought you were PJ.." I admitted, glancing down. Dejection seemed to flash across Phil's face, but was lost as soon as it appeared,

"No.."

I swallowed, adjusting myself so I was sitting next to Phil, rather than _on_ him,

"What happened?"

He sighed deeply, running his fingers through his hair,

"You don't remember?"

"Only bits and pieces."

"Oh," he paused for a moment, as if thinking of what he was going to say,

"So," he took a breath, "...I was coming in here to ask if you wanted take out or not," he explained, doing some odd gestures with his hands, "and you were just mumbling and drawing all over yourself."

"That was it?"

"No, no. Like, you must've been pushing down really hard on your skin because you were bleeding. Not a whole bunch, but it was there."

I looked down onto my arms and legs, and sure enough there was little beads of blood oozing from underneath the written words. I gazed at all the markings on my skin. It looked as though I had one of those sleeve tattoos, but terribly done. Nevertheless, I didn't hate what I had done. It made me feel peaceful,

"So what'd you do?" I asked,

"I called PJ. He left his number on the counter before he left. Under it he wrote 'look after Dan'. I didn't really understand what it meant, and I didn't really think I'd have to.. well.. 'look after' you so soon."

I opened my mouth to ask something else, but Phil beat me to it,

"So, you're probably wondering what PJ told me," to which I nodded, "As you could probably guess, I was pretty terrified. He just said to just comfort you and tell you something like 'it's going to be alright', but he was  _really_ specific about what to say. Like if I said the wrong thing, you'd die or something." of course Phil was exaggerating, but I guess it was pretty important to Peej that I was okay. This wasn't the first time I've had an incident, but I would consider it the worst. PJ wasn't here to keep it from getting too extreme.

"Oh, thanks for that." I mumbled. And I really was grateful, but I was also extremely scared. This is the second incident I've had today,

"Dan?"

"Yeah?"

I almost barely heard his question, he said it so softly,

"Are you ordinary?"

I think I may have stopped breathing for little bit.

Should I tell him?

I mean, it's not that hard to figure out. He probably already discovered, and is just looking for confirmation,

"Yeah," I swallowed, "yeah, I am."

He went silent,

"I'm sorry."

He looked at me, taken aback,

"For what?"

"For being like this. I can understand if you.." I sighed,

"If I hate you?" he laughed, "Dan! I could never hate you. Literally! My whole being is against the idea of hate. I mean, you are a bit strange, but I don't  _hate_ you."

I smiled weakly, then looked up at him,

"For real?"

"Yeah."

He smiled back, and an undescribable amount of happiness flooded through me. It may or may not have been the effect of his Facult, but I that moment I felt like he cared about me; he probably did.

Which I don't understand why, but I decided not to question it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently 6 comments, 6 kudos, and 66 hits.  
> i'm not saying I'm satan, but


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm currently listening to The End Of All Things with headphones on full volume and I can't stop crying k bye

_It was a dark and stormy night..._

Literally.

I was standing in the kitchen of my new flat, pellets of water drenching my clothes. The only thing I could think about was  _how cold it was_.

The water was more like ice, piercing through my skin. On the floor a small pool was forming.

We were going to need to clean that up.

Speaking of _we,_ where was Phil?

"Here."

And he was 'here', standing in the doorway. But it wasn't Phil. Or was it? I couldn't tell, because at the same time he looked like PJ. My eyes began to hurt as his form started to flicker back and forth, causing me to look away,

"I'm hungry." I told him, simply,

"Look in the cupboards." his voice sounded disoriented. It should scare me, but it didn't.

There was nothing in the cupboards, so I did the only thing that made sense. With as much force as I could muster I ripped the cupboard door off it's hinges. It instantly turned to bread within my finger tips. I smiled and plopped it into my mouth.

I then continued to do the same with each cupboard door, until I heard Phil behind me begin to yell,

 _"Stop!_ What are you  _doing_?"

I turned around, frightened that he was shouting at me. He wasn't. To my surprise, Chris was standing in the archway of our kitchen. He was murmuring something to Phil. I couldn't make any of it out, the sound was so muffled.

"What?" I said.

Or at least tried to say.

But every time I opened my mouth, a string of piano chords flew out.

I squeezed my lips shut, hoping it would stop that horrific noise. My attempts failed. It was so loud! I wanted it to end!

My mouth opened again, this time my vocals singing,

"Back to the street, where we began. Feelin' as good as lovers can, you know."

 

My eyes flew open, and I groaned, my hands fumbling around aimlessly for my cell. I pressed the 'accept call' button,

"Hello?" I croaked,

 _"Dan! How's it going mate?"_ it was Chris,

"I'm fucking tired, what do you want?"

 _"Well, you see,_ " he began. I could hear him smacking his lips on the other line. It was something Chris did when he was about to say something strange, _"Me and PJ were thinking about inviting you and Phil to_ _go out somewhere today."_

"Oh? Where to?" I replied, sitting myself up in the bed. I brought the duvet up to cover my bare chest,

_"A male strip joint, of course!"_

_"Chris!_ " Peej shouted from the background. I heard Chris let out an faux-irritated sigh,

_"Laser-tag."_

I chuckled,

"Yeah, sure. Are you going to call Phil and ask him, too?"

There was a bit of silence from the other end,

_"Why can't you just ask him? You live with the guy."_

"But I don't really know him that well."

 _"Oh, get over yourself, Dan."_  He laughed.I heard PJ say something to Chris from the other side, not sure what it was. Soon later Chris was telling me,  _"Gotta go, mate. The hubby needs me."_

I swear I could've heard him wink,

"Alright, see ya'." 

Then the call ended.

 

I stood myself up and shuffled to the bathroom, letting out a yawn as I opened the door. I don't exactly remember going to sleep last night; it must've been sometime after my incident. Those have been happening more frequently now, and to be honest, it was scaring me quite a bit.

There were still some boxes that weren't unpacked. About two or three, containing things like shoes, games, and of course my "special items", which I had been in the process of unpacking yesterday. 

When I saw my body in the mirror, my eyes basically become the size of the moon.

_Hah, good one, Dan._

No, but really. Across my left arm was a myriad of lyrics and swirling patterns. 

On my right arm was the word "no" written over again a multitude of times. It was what I had been working on yesterday, but wasn't visible due to the jumper I had on before me and Peej left.

I looked down, not surprised to find more lyrics on my thighs. There were also doodles of random mushrooms and darkly shaded tree branches. Large flowers with thorns growing from the stems. 

And within each little work of art were small dotted lines of dried blood. 

I ran my fingers across the spirals, lightly tracing them,

"..Dan?"

The voice, no matter how gentle, nearly made me jump out of my skin. I turned towards Phil and looked at him with wide eyes,

"Oh! Sorry. Did I scare you?"

"Uh, a bit. I'm fine, though."

He nodded, his gaze brushing over my near naked skin (I had my boxers on, you perv). A very noticeable blush exploded across my cheeks as my arms wrapped themselves across my stomach. I cleared my throat.

Phil's face became red as well, after he realised I saw him staring,

"I was just.. getting in the shower. To wash all this off." I explained. I actually hadn't been planning on showering, but it now seemed like a good idea. Phil nodded, the blush still tinting his cheeks (and I'm sure I looked the same) as he walked away.

 

It took me a few seconds to figure out how the shower handles worked, nearly burning myself on the first try; soon I had gotten the hang of it. Standing under the warm water gave me some time to think.

I thought about last night. How did I end up in the bed? The last thing I remember was talking to Phil after what happened.

Maybe I fell asleep there. I kind of was a bit tired.

So did Phil put me to bed?

Did Phil  _undress_ me and put me to bed?

Oh my.

I guess he did.

But I probably shouldn't bring that up.

No, that'd be weird. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door,

"Dan? You alright in there?"

I furrowed my brow,

"Yeah.." I replied, a bit confused.

I hadn't been in here very long. What made him ask?

And then it hit me. By it, I mean my palm; by me, I mean my face.

I had been talking to myself again!

God, Dan. You idiot.

 

After I was sure all the ink was gone, I excused myself from the shower. I then wrapped a towel around myself and headed straight to my room. From my closet, it seemed a good idea to choose a black ops shirt and some dark,  _dark_ skinny jeans, which were a pain to get on. My hair was still drying; I could always straighten it later.

I then went to search for my flatmate. Laser-tag was still a topic I had to bring up with him. He wasn't hard to find though. Phil was just sitting on his bed scrolling through some website on his laptop. I knocked on the door frame, feeling too awkward to speak up. He saw me and smiled,

"What's up?" he asked,

"I - uh,  _Chris_ , invited us to go play laser-tag." My hands fiddled with the hem of my shirt,

"You wanna go?"

"I guess."

He shut the lid on his lap top, setting it to the side and then adjusting himself so he was sitting indian style,

"Alright. What time?" 

I shrugged, and cast my eyes down to the floor,

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I shrugged again. He sighed,

"Dan, I know it's kind of weird living with someone you don't really know, but if we're ever going to become friends, you need to ... um ... interact more?"

I nodded. I felt like some loner kid that was getting a lecture on how to make friends.

And I guess, I was.

But the reason I was nervous to talk to him was because I didn't want to screw up. I had already embarrassed myself more than needed, I couldn't have him  _not_ like me. Except not saying anything doesn't work that well, either,

"I'll go call Chris." I told him, making my way back to my room.

 

After receiving the time and place from Chris, I informed Phil. He then told me I should probably put a sweatshirt on before leaving, considering there were little red scabs all over my arms. I agreed, grabbing my red university sweatshirt (and straightening my hair in record time) before we left,

"Aw, why'd you straighten it out?" Phil pouted when we exited the flat. I chuckled,

"Because I hate my curly hair."

"I think it's cute."

"I think it's _horrific_."

He gave me a playful shove, causing me to giggle as I batted his hands away.

 _Seriously, Dan. Giggling._  

Phil then laughed, and I swear to god every single butterfly in my stomach chose that moment to do the salsa because it was  _the most adorable thing ever._ His tongue poked out a bit from the side and the corners of his mouth pointed up into little triangles; I couldn't help but stare and I'm pretty sure he noticed because he just awkwardly coughed and messed with his fringe. He didn't drop his smile though, it continued as that cute little smirk.

_Wtf you're a cute person._

When we arrived at the underground, my mood dropped a whole bunch against my will. I looked around, confused on who was transmitting me these emotions. Why? 

And then I remembered that I am not like these people. I am different and they all discriminate against me.

I guess when I was with Phil, I felt okay. I felt like I belonged. Like I belonged with  _him._ _  
_

That was just because of his Facult, though. I didn't really belong with him. I didn't belong anywhere.

And the feelings being sent to me only confirmed that theory,

"Dan, are you okay?" Phil asked, noticing my sudden drop in mood.

I felt so frustrated, he's had to have asked me that about twenty times today. I didn't answer him. I just continued forward,

" _Dan._ "

"Shut up, Phil."

And he did.

 

We were both silent on the tube. This kind of reminded me of when I was with Peej yesterday.

My mood still hadn't increased, which didn't surprise me. There were still people on the train sending me malice emotions, and those who couldn't just glared at me.

Suddenly there was something else, something clashing with every other emotion I had. I looked over at Phil, raising an eyebrow,

"Every time someone makes you feel bad," he began, speaking soft enough so only I could hear, "I'm going to send you ten times more of what I have and rule them out."

He then paused, continuing after I hadn't replied,

"I don't like seeing you upset. I know we haven't really known each other that long, and it's kind of my job, I guess, to care about people," he then looked me dead in the eye, a shock of electricity seemed to trickle through me.

Those butterflies started to dance again.

My thoughts were running a mile a minute.

The beat of my heart was so fast, I could barely feel it.

Maybe it wasn't even beating at all,

"But... I think I care about you more than I should." he smirked again and I nearly fainted.

 

* * *

 

 

"Dan! Phil!" Chris called, "The dashing duo." He flashed a grin, the proceeded to give us a very suggestive wink,

"What." I said, completely monotone,

"Are you guys ready for some Laser-Tag?" he asked, ignoring what I said,

"You bet." Phil smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets,

"Great! Let me just go and get Pee-jay..." he trailed off. Chris left in the direction of the snack bar within the arcade.

When he returned, PJ was following close behind,

"Right, so we're going to do flatmates versus flatmates. Me and Peej on the red team, of course," he chuckled, "because we all know that red is the colour of hot things, and me and Peej are  _indeed_   very hot."

"For christ's sake, Chris." I laughed,

"So are we blue because we're cooler than you?" asked Phil,

"No.." Chris began, "You're blue because that's the colour your corpses are going to be when we crush you!" 

At this point, we all broke out in hysterical laughter as Chris stood there, confused,

"I'm serious, guys!"

-which caused us to laugh even harder. Chris mumbled something before grabbing PJ by the arm and trotting off towards that laser-tag ticket desk.

 

We each paid individually for our game ticket, but since the arcade wasn't very busy on Tuesdays, we got to head right in with no wait.

Before we entered the arena, we all stood in a room with the laser-tag gear that was lit in two colours: red and blue. There was a video we need to watch on safety prior to entering the arena. When it was finished, we went in.

The arena was fairly large. There were various walls and raised floorings within the room. It was completely dark, save the red and blue glowing patterns that were etched into the walls. On one side of the arena, placed on the ceiling, was a white glowing button that belonged to the blue team, it was there for the red team to shoot in order to get points. The same for the other side as well,

"Alright," a guide shouted from the doorway, "You all know the rules. No maiming, no pushing, no shoving. No hitting each other with the guns, yada-yada. You can only gain points from shooting the designated white lights on your opponent's side of the arena. When you are shot, your laser-gun will be inactive for a total of ten seconds. Please refrain from climbing on to the top of the walls, and as always, have a great time. Your game will begin in sixty seconds, and last for five minutes."

He then left, closing the door behind him,

"Ok, we have a minute to plan.. so, go to your guy's side." PJ said, taking Chris and heading over to their area,

"Right. So. What's our plan?" Phil asked as we made our way to the side our point system was on,

"One of us will stay here and guard the white thing-y, while the other goes and tries to shoot the other team's.. white.. thing-y..." 

Phil nodded, understanding,

"We should switch off every now and then, though. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Soon my phone started to ring from my pocket, seeing as it was PJ as the caller ID, I answered it,

"Hey?"

_"Hi, yes, so me and Chris came up with this fantastic idea."_

I chuckled, "And what would that be?"

_"So we need an incentive, right? I thought, whichever team gets the most points can decorate the other team players."_

"Decorate?"

_"Yes! With, like, paint and glitter glue and stuff like that."_

_"I never agreed to this!"_ I heard Chris shout into the phone. I laughed,

"Okay, sounds good."

Soon a buzzer went off, announcing the start of the game, and a procession of awful dubstep music rung throughout the arena. I quickly hung up my call with PJ,

"I'll guard first! Go on, Dan. You are the chosen one!" Phil shouted from behind, pushing me forward. I laughed and ran towards the other side of the arena. I skillfully ducked and hid behind the walls, peeking through the portholes that were on a few of them. When I reached the other side, I was surprised to find no one guarding it. I shrugged, lifting my gun and preparing to shoot when-

 _bzzzt_.

I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened,

"What?"

I glanced down to find the blue light on my chest plate flickering. Someone had shot me. But who? And from where?

After ten seconds, when the light reappeared, I tried shooting again.

_bzzzt._

"Okay seriously, what the fuck." I turned around, and sure enough Chris was behind me, crouched down within a crevice between two walls. When my light returned, I quickly shot his chest plate before he could get mine,

"What!  _No!"_

"Hah-hah!" I mocked, turning around and firing shamelessly at the white light, "take that, motherfucker!"

Soon my light went out again and my shooting ceased. I quickly ran back to the blue team's side to find a very confused Phil,

"Someone's shooting at our thing, but I can't find them!" he threw his hands up.

I knew it had to be PJ, since Chris was on the other side. But where was he?

I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. From back behind a wall I could hear a ukulele sort of song begin to play. I followed to sound, finding an irritated PJ bashing on the 'end call' button, cursing at his cell. He looked up from his crouched position, giving me a weak smile as I held up my laser-gun and shot his chest plate more times than was necessary, and Peej then stood up chanting "no, no no!" as he ran back to his side,

"And stay out!" Phil yelled in his general direction,

"Switch?" I suggested. Phil nodded, and left to go attack the other team. I decided to steal Chris's tactic and hide behind a wall, waiting for someone to come around. Soon enough, PJ was back. I slowly raised my gun, about to shoot, but he got me first,

"Crap!" I shouted, scrunching my face, "How'd you know where I was?" 

"Wasn't that hard to figure out." he smirked, shooting at the target. Except, soon, PJ's light went out. But I wasn't the one who shot him? 

I turned around and saw Phil standing there, gun in hand. From behind him I saw Chris, quickly shooting him before he could get any further. I then ran to the other side. This was my chance to get some points back!

I'm not sure if the others pursuited me, but incase they did, I ran in a sort of zig-zag pattern to avoid being shot. When I reached the other side I took no hesitation in shooting their target,

"Ah! Dan!" I turned around. Phil was running this way, PJ and Chris closed behind. His light went out multiple times. I aimed towards Chris, shooting him in the chest and doing the same with PJ. When Phil reached me he ordered,

"Keep shooting the target, I'll hold them off."

I nodded, doing as he said. Now it was only PJ left, as Chris went to our side. A count down began to echo throughout the arena. I didn't go after Chris. If I kept shooting this target here, we might just beat them,

_15 seconds left._

" _Ung,_ I can't get him!" Phil wailed. I looked over from where I was shooting. Phil's eyes were wide as PJ swiftly moved from one side to the next, trying to shoot Phil to get to me. Thinking fast, with only 5 seconds left, I quickly shoved Phil behind me and shouted,

"Shoot!"

He knew exactly what I meant, and aimed upwards toward the target.

At seemingly the same time, I shot my laser towards PJ as he did to me.

_bzzzt._

I glanced down, my light went out.

The buzzer went off signaling the end of the game.

I slowly dropped to my knees in a melodramatic manner,

" _Why"_ I whispered, falling on to my face,

"Dan! Noo!" Phil bent to my side, then turning to PJ, "you monster!"

"I did what I had to do." he spoke lowly.

After about five seconds of silence, we all burst into uncontrollable laughter. Chris then returned, furrowing his brow,

"What'd I miss?"

PJ ruffled his hair, ignoring his question,

"Let's go see who won."

 

We made it back out into the arcade to receive our scores. Chris grabbed the sheet of paper from the counter and read it aloud,

"Ok, well, we tied." he said.

"So what now?" I asked. PJ smirked,

"Well technically, we both lost."

"Glitter glue and paint war?" Phil suggested,

PJ winked, "Exactly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of just a filler chapter I guess idk.  
> Enjoy it, if you wish. c:
> 
> Also I have been watching this video non-stop on a loop because oh my goODNEsS his laugh is beautiful and iT JUST MAKES ME SO HAPPY :))))))))))))  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZNb4TfC7-c  
> (copy and paste in your search bar <3)
> 
> (edit: to clear some thing up, Chris and PJ aren't "together" in this chapter. They're just really close and overly platonic atm. They might end up with each other later in the story, but that is still to be decided.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writer's block tbh, so sorry if this chapter sucks.

There was crimson and gold and black and white and pink and gray and purple-

But all I could see was blue.

 _Blue blue blue blue blue blue blue_.

And holy  _fuck_ was it beautiful.

I screeched as a glob of cold wetness slithered from my neck and onto my back. From behind me PJ was laughing, dipping his hand into another paint colour before rubbing it all over Chris's chest. Laughter erupted from within me. 

I reached down, scooping a handful of glitter; it was mostly all clumped from dried paint, but there were still some "float-y" bits. I crept up behind Phil who was busy wiping paint from his eyes and tapped on his shoulder. He turned around. As soon as he did, I blew the glitter from my hand and onto him. Phil squinted his eyes shut and stumbled backwards,

" _Pffft!"_ he spit little flakes of glitter from his mouth, "Dan!" He laughed, shaking his head to rid of the excess glitter in his hair. I laughed along with him,

"Wait, hold still." he said, glancing around on the street.

Yes, the street.

PJ had the brilliant idea of doing our whole "paint war" outside in  _the middle of the street._  We were all wearing borrowed clothes as well; a white t-shirt and well worn jeans. There were scattered paint buckets on the ground, each containing various colours. And also, there was a bin with silver glitter in it.

When Phil had found what he was looking for, he returned with a pink glob of paint. My eyes widened. 

"No, no don't move!" he giggled, tongue poking out from one side. Phil brought the glob up to the top of my head, and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the impact of paint.

When I found there was none, I hesitantly opened one eye. There was a weird tugging sensation on the top of my head,

" _Phil."_

"Hm?"

"...Are you spiking my hair with pink paint?"

He bit his lip, attempting to hold a smile back, but failed,

"Yeah."

I heard Chris's laugh from my left,

"Ha-ha! Looking hot, Dan!" 

I glanced over just in time to catch the wink he gave me. I stuck my tongue out at him, then focused my attention back on Phil.

Instantly, I was met with a wave of blue, nearly knocking me over into oblivion. A part of me wished it was actually blue paint so I wouldn't be feeling the intense bubbling in my stomach.

I gave him a crooked smile, and he blushed, glancing down.

_You're really cute._

Suddenly, the tugging on my hair stopped and Phil's gaze snapped back up to me. I furrowed my brow,

"What?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head,

"Uh, nothing," Phil removed his hands from my hair and smiled, "Done!"

I chuckled,

"Oh, god."

PJ piped up, "It's a good look for you, Dan. You should get your hair done like that." 

I shot a glare his way, pulling my phone from my pocket and taking a look at my reflection. 

It wasn't  _that_ bad.

No, honestly, it was terrible.

Looking back up, I took in the scenery around me.

It was disastrous. Within the October setting, dried leaves and orange skies, there was a myriad of paint splatters decorating the road; fireworks of blue and red, black and purple, lightly sprinkled with glitter covered the ground and pavement. Knocked over paint cans littered the street. But in the midst of it all, were four paint covered boys laughing their asses off.

I guess it was beautiful, in a chaotic sort of way.

 

On our way back inside PJ and Chris's flat, I couldn't help but notice two bright orange hand prints splat on PJ's arse,

"Getting a little bit grabby there, aren't we, Chris?" I laughed. Phil cupped his hand over his mouth and snorted,

"I just couldn't help myself." Chris chuckled. PJ then hit him upside the head, his face a dark shade of pink. He cleared his throat,

"So, if you want, you guys could - uh - stay the night here? I mean we'd be fine with it."

I looked over at Phil, who nodded,

"Yeah, sure."

Peej smiled,

"Great! You can borrow some of mine and Chris's clothes, and try not to shower for longer than 15 minutes. Because, you know, the water bill and stuff." 

Chris then felt it necessary to add,

"But it's not much of a problem, considering me and Peej shower together, anyways."

PJ rolled his eyes, unlocking the door to the flat and letting us in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's so short. I have a whole bunch of tests to study for so idk.  
> also I highly doubt anybody minds. there's like 2 people currently reading this I think, so alsdjlkajsdlfkjlasd.
> 
> aaand jeck heck hecK! so many things have happened.  
> !! Like Supernatural started yesterday !!  
> !! American Horror Story is today !!  
> !! And Chris is posting on YouTube regularly !!  
> !! and Halloween is soon !!  
> !! also it's PINOF season !!  
> !! and gaming channel !!  
> heck
> 
> also, this is the hottest video on the internet.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKeb8Aq74Jc


	6. Chapter 6

_Cinnamon_.

I smiled. PJ's flat always smelled so nice, and I swear, every week had a new scent. I guess this week it was cinnamon.

It was strange, I thought, considering I had been here so many times but never once saw Phil. Although it does make sense. He himself said that him and Chris had grown apart. But still, shouldn't I have at least heard about him?

And now that I think about it, Chris and Peej had brought up some guy named Phil in conversation once; I never did know the name of the guy at the ceremony. So, yeah, it makes sense that I wouldn't have connected the two.

While we were deciding shower schedules, I, being the ever-so-kind person I was, volunteered to shower last, which was a bad decision on my part. In the time it took for everyone else to shower (and no, Chris did not shower with PJ), the pink paint in my hair took it's time to dry.

So when I had gotten out of the shower, despite how many times I washed and shampooed and scrubbed my head raw, there were vibrant pink flecks streaking my hair. Chris burst into laughter when I entered the room, and even PJ had a difficult time stifling his. Phil giggled a bit, giving a small apology,

"Alright," PJ announced, clapping his hands together, "so where is everyone planning on sleeping? We've got two rooms only, so I guess it's two to a bed? Or someone could sleep on the couch."

I head been expecting Chris to spill out some weird innuendo about him and PJ, but he was surprisingly quiet,

"Would it be alright if I shared with you? I mean if not, I'll sleep on the couch." I asked Peej,

"Yeah sure, that's fine!" 

"I guess that means Phil's with me," Chris smiled, "but don't get too jealous, PJ, you're still my favourite." he winked for like the fifth time today before we all left to go sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

It was pretty dark in PJ's room, but I was used to it. Of course this wasn't the first time I'd slept in his bed. We've been friends for years, but it's never been anything more than that,

"Dan?" he whispered. I jumped a bit, thinking he was asleep,

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Phil?"

I paused. What did I think of him? I mean, of course I thought he was amazing. And really cute. Very cute. But why was Peej asking this now? He knew what I thought of Phil. I mean, I always talked about the "guy at the ceremony". So much, in fact, I nearly got a slap in the face because I wouldn't shut up about him,

"He's alright."

PJ smiled,

" _Alright_ , Dan? Come on. You must be  _freaking out!_ I mean I knew you were sharing with one of Chris's friends ... but when he opened that door.." he laughed, "you should've seen your face."

My eyes widened, "Was it bad?"

PJ only laughed harder,

"So what's it like living with him so far? The lover of your dreams."

I elbowed him,

"Shut up, Peej. It's not like that."

"It totally is! Don't think I didn't catch you giving him heart-eyes earlier today."

I sighed,

"I hardly even know him, PJ. I just think he's really cool is all."

He chuckled,

" _Okay._ " and I practically  _heard_ him rolling his eyes.

 

After another few minutes or so, PJ piped up again. But this time, on a different topic,

"Do you think he means it?" I heard him say, barely a whisper, but it was there,

"Who?"

"Chris."

I turned my head so I could see Peej. He was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The faint light in the room was just enough to outline his features, delicate as they were,

"Means what?" I asked softly,

"You know ... all the joking about me and him. Do you think there's apart of him that wants that?"

I thought for a moment, before replying,

"Is there apart of  _you_ that wants that?"

He let out a long breath,

" _I don't know_. I don't know, Dan. And it's so frustrating because," he brought his hands up to his face, the palms of them digging into his eyelids, "because I love him. But I don't know if I love him as a friend, or like properly love him, or if all his joking his just getting to my head-" he emitted a short growl,

"I - just," PJ sighed, "I'm sorry, just go back to sleep."

And with not know what to say, I did.

 

* * *

 

The morning came earlier than expected, the white light burning from the outside of my eyelids. I groaned, rolling onto my stomach and bringing the duvet with me. I was prepared to stay there all day.

That was until the smokey smell of bacon wafted into the room, putting on my senses on high alert.

_There was food! There was food._

And fuck, was I hungry.

I reluctantly pulled the covers off, hissing at the cold air that immediately overwhelmed my body. I shuffled into the kitchen, stretching my arms over my head,

"'Mornin' sleeping beauty. Rest well?" Chris asked, shoving a mouthful of pancake into his mouth,

"Yeah. You?"

"'Twas hard to. This one," he stated, jabbing his fork in Phil's direction, "tends to snore."

"It's not my fault!" he said, his voice going about ten octaves higher, "I can't control what I do when I sleep."

I pulled a chair out from under the table, cringing at the screech that echoed through the kitchen when I did so. I sat in it and fixed myself a plate of bacon and pancakes,

"Where's PJ?" I asked,

"Went to the shop." Chris replied, popping the 'p'.

"Oh." I replied.

He nodded, picking up his bowl and putting it in the sink before darting off to his room,

"What's up with him?" I asked Phil, biting into a piece of bacon.

Phil just shrugged. A click followed by a creak directed our attention to a very flustered PJ entering the flat. He slammed a bag on the counter and ran a hand through his hair,

" _Dan_ ," he huffed, "I need to talk to you."

"What." I murmured, my mouth stuffed with food. He let out an exasperated sigh and trudged over to me, grabbing me by the forearm and yanking my body up,

" _Now._ " 

I whimpered, PJ's grip pulling me to his room. He shut the door behind him and turned to me. I hastily swallowed the food I had been eating before he interrupted and opened my mouth to speak,

"PJ? Is something wrong-"

And once again, I was interrupted.

PJ shoved me up against the wall and pressed his lips to mine in a bruising kiss. My eyes grew wide and I squirmed under him before finally being able to push him off. I gave myself a few seconds to catch my breath,

"Um,  _what_!?" I gasped at him, still breathing heavily, "What the  _hell_ was that!?"

He gaped at me, and I realized that this probably was not the reaction he had been expecting. 

I stared at him, my eyes wide with confusion,

"So... all that stuff you were telling me about Chris last night? Was that just bullshit?"  

"Huh?" he said, out of breath.

"You said you loved Chris! And now you're in here.. rubbing your lips all over my face."

"I-" PJ gripped at his hair and stared at the floor, "I thought about it.. while I was out. I _only_ love Chris as a friend. I thought what I was feeling was for him but-"

He looked up,

"Shit, Dan. I'm in love with you."

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, storming out of PJ's room, and out of his flat, and out of the building. Nobody protested.

PJ was crazy. He wasn't in love with me. He's just confused.

A thought crossed my mind, that PJ might just be feeling like he's losing me. He's always been incredibly protective over me, especially since what had happened with my mom.. he was the person who was there for me when no one else was, mostly because there  _wasn't_ anyone else. PJ was my only friend, and now that I'm moving away from him and in with someone else (especially the person who I've been fawning over for years) he could just be afraid that I'm going to replace him. So, he's acting out on his feelings...

Or, he really is in love with me. 

It was while I was wandering the streets of Manchester did I realize how incredibly stupid I was.

My phone was left at Chris and PJ's flat, I was still in my sleepwear, and I had no idea where I was.

Not to mention, my hair was pink.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been neglecting this story lol sorry.


	7. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: vomit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short and shitty. i wrote it in study hall on my phone.  
> also im going to write the rest of this story in 3rd person. im going to go back later and edit the previous chapters so they're in 3rd person.

Dan wanted to die. He wanted to shrivel up and die. Here he was roaming the streets of Manchester, _barefoot_ , looking like a fucking mess. His feet were damp and freezing, contrary to the intense heat rising up his neck and tainting his cheeks; this was humiliating. 

He couldn't go back, though. Not now. His pride was far too great. His nails dug into the skin of his palm. Curse him and his fucking pride. Not to mention, what would Phil think of him now? He was so mature, tactful; Dan was just a big, pouty baby.

He groaned and hugged his arms around his body and continued walking. He wished he could say he felt the eyes of the people around him burning into his flesh, judging him, but it was the complete opposite. No one gave him a second glance. People didn't want to look at him; the secondhand embarrassment striking pity into hearts. _Poor kid. Does he know how ridiculous he looks?_

Quickening his pace, Dan ducked into a nearby coffee shop. The bell on the door rang out, attracting the attention of a few customers. Some did a double take, a few stared and whispered to whoever was around to listen. He looked stupid. He was stupid. And it didn't take a genius to realize what he was. 

The coffee shop had gone silent; the clinking of silverware and slurping of drinks all ceased filling the small, homey building. The only noise to be heard was the squishy suction sound of his muddy feet accompanied with reproachful whispers as he made the walk of shame to the restrooms. Dan cringed, realizing that there was no way he wasn't leaving small, dirty footprints on the tiles of the cafe. The floor was pearly white, obviously cleaned regularly to produce a sparkly gleam to let the customers know that _Hey, you won't find rat pellets in your coffee! Come give us your money!_

And here was Dan. The rat.

He was so embarrassed. He hugged himself tighter, a lump forming in his throat as he resisted the urge to break down.

Dan pushed open the door to the restroom and shuffled inside; the air around him grew tight as he slid down the wall and crouched on the floor. Dan hugged his knees to his chest. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and every breath felt like a hurricane. His eyes squeezed shut as tears leaked out and a sob escaped his lips. He prayed no one was in here with him. That no one could see the thick saliva coating his mouth, the tears flooding in his eyes. He felt his nose begin to run and he sniffed, taking in short quick breaths through his mouth. He could hardly breathe.

Dan hated himself. He hated that he was so fucking ugly when he cried. Movies were shit; no one looks good when they're sad. He hated that he ran. He hated that he was embarrassed, that he was too prideful to even think about going back to the flat. He hated how weak he was, how emotional he was. He hated the fact that he was overreacting. He hated that he was stupid. He hated himself. He hated everything. _Hate hate hate_.

"I hate myself I _hate myself_ , fucking _kill me_."

Thinking about it, Dan came to the conclusion that PJ probably hates his guts. Dan probably hurt his feelings. Dan is such an asshole.

He wondered what his mom would say.

Dan's body shook. It felt like water was rushing in his ears, the sound so deafening that he almost missed it - the sound of a flush. He wasn't alone.

How humiliating.

He buried his face in his knees, pleading. _Please don't see me. Don't talk to me._

Dan didn't look up to see who was with him. He focused on stilling his body, keeping silent. He sniffed, the sound echoing in the now eerily quiet bathroom.

Dan tried to judge the stranger's actions from what he could hear. A stall door opening. A squeak and then the sound of running water. The water stops. The noise of a paper towel dispenser being used. A rip. Shuffling. Then silence.

He didn't hear the door. The stranger was still here.

Suddenly, there was a sick, rolling feeling in the pit of Dan's stomach. His chest begin to burn and an endless swell of tears began streaming down his cheeks, the salty drops dripping under his chin and onto his shirt. His head was pounding, breathing wasn't even an option. 

Dan cried out. He whined. He choked. Everything was so numb it hurt. He tried to stop crying but to no avail. 

His head shot up from where it was resting between his knees and collided with the wall behind him. The pain in his chest and stomach was unbearable. He squirmed, pressing on it in hopes it would subside the pain. 

He couldn't stop this. It was out of his control.

Dan whined, breathing heavily through his nose. His eyes squeezed shut. The nausea became worse and a metallic taste covered his tongue; his stomach lurched.

Hot, acidic vomit spewed from his throat, over his tongue and splattered on the tile. He could hardly see anything through his tears and felt unbelievably dizzy. When the wave of sickness finally passed, Dan fell over. There he lay, covered in his own vile, sticky puke. It covered his hair, his clothes. It was horrific and it smelled gross and felt gross and Dan could honestly care less at this point.

His vision began to go black and static filled his brain. A few fading thoughts crossed his mind.

The fact that the stranger sneered,

"Disgusting." before he left.

The fact that those emotions disappeared with the slam of a door.

And the fact that someone was going to find him laying in his own vomit.

_How humiliating._


End file.
